


Acceptable Loss

by Castillon02



Series: Bond Women Loving Women [5]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Quantum of Solace (2008), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castillon02/pseuds/Castillon02
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Field agent recruit Moneypenny starts dating Fields and learns a hard lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acceptable Loss

**Author's Note:**

> For the Fields/Moneypenny spot on the 007 Fest femslash prompt square.

Moneypenny’s first ‘mission’ as a field agent recruit was a glorified game of capture the flag that their trainer called ‘protect the asset.’ That afternoon she not only scrambled over the safety line with her asset partner in tow, she did it after disabling the paintball gunman who had been targeting them. Agent Shastri scolded her for endangering the asset, but not very hard, and not nearly as much as she praised her for her initiative.

Moneypenny was going to be the best field agent ever. Maybe she’d even aim for 00 someday. 

However, being a field agent required paperwork skills as well as asset protection skills. She would impress Shastri and her future superiors even more if she practiced her after-action reports now so that the first report she turned in would be flawless, or at least free of common errors.

It was easy enough to get a copy of the form. She didn’t have clearance to get into the field agents’ offices or computer files, but she did have access to Medical, and in Medical she found an agent who was only too willing to pawn off her paperwork on a pretty young recruit who said she wanted the experience.

“You know, sweetheart, if you really want an experience…” the agent said, batting her eyes after Moneypenny typed up and electronically submitted the form.

Moneypenny snapped the agent’s laptop shut. “Save it, Agent Codeine,” she said, gesturing at the agent’s IV bag full of painkillers, and let herself out.

She snagged a rare free table in Six’s only in-house caffeinated beverages shop and ended up squinting at the blank form on her laptop screen. Typing up Agent Codeine’s report for her had helped a little, but what was question 2e asking, exactly? It wasn’t very clear. She skimmed further down the form and frowned. What were compensatory damages?  

Not long after she sat down, a woman swung herself into the chair opposite Moneypenny. She was perhaps two or three years older, her red hair pulled back into a neat bun, her skirt suit perfectly ironed and creased, and her eyes locked onto Moneypenny’s knowingly.

For one heartstopping moment, Moneypenny thought she was a member of the Form Police here to kick her out of training and send her back to Merton.

Then the woman smiled and said, “You look like you need help, and I need a place to sit and drink my coffee. Quid pro quo?”  

Moneypenny calmed her racing heart and smiled back at her. “I’ll even get you another cuppa on the way out if you can clear this up for me,” she said.

“I’ll take that deal,” the woman said with an approving nod. “I’m Fields. What seems to be the problem?”

It turned out that Fields actually was something like the form police. (“There’s a fancy classified name for it, but basically we analyze paperwork from internal, domestic, and foreign sources.”) However, Fields was too glad to find a recruit who didn’t plan to swallow an ink cartridge, rub the resulting shitstain on a piece of paper, and call it a report to care about Moneypenny’s petty theft. She ended up dragging her chair over next to Moneypenny’s and walking her through her write-up.

“Question 2e wants to know whether you were armed, and if so, what materials you were armed with. Don’t get cute and talk about how you were armed with ‘willpower and determination’ or anything.” Fields rolled her eyes.

“They didn’t give us any weapons to start with,” Moneypenny said. “Do I just write N/A there?”

“That depends,” Fields said. “Did you at any point use an instrument other than your own body on another person?”

“I tripped someone with a tree branch and shot them with their own BB gun,” Moneypenny said, torn between smirking at the memory and the embarrassing awareness that this must be very small potatoes compared to what Fields read about every day.  

Fields didn’t laugh. Instead, Fields gave her a high-five and said, “All right, score one for the new girl!”

Moneypenny might have glowed inside. Just a little.

Fields helped her write a top-notch report and even showed her how to electronically submit it to Shastri. Afterward, Moneypenny fetched her a cafe au lait, gave it to her, and said, “By the way, would you—would you mind if I happened to buy you a coffee again sometime?”

Fields studied her for a long moment and then she broke into a warm smile. “I’ll warn you now,” she said. “Work keeps me busy. But I’d like to have another coffee with you very much, Ms. Moneypenny.”  

Moneypenny nearly skipped out of the Vauxhall building. Kicking arse in the field agent program AND getting coffee with a cute woman? Six had definitely been the right career choice.  

***

Most of their coffees were indeed at work: snatched moments of chatting, flirting, and shop talk. On a few occasions, however, they managed to find coffee at non-MI6-affiliated-cafes; coffee in Fields’ bedroom; coffee in the nearby parks; coffee at late-night showings of old movies that Fields loved.

“‘Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time!’” Fields quoted as they stumbled through the door of her flat. She laughed a little, high on the cinema and her own sleep deprivation, only to gasp as Moneypenny shoved her back against the door, one thigh grinding between Fields’ legs, and did just as Fields had asked.

As the months passed, Moneypenny advanced in her training and the ‘field trips’ she got to go on sometimes took up to a week to complete. She came home with interrogations, surveillance tactics, combat practice, sniper practice, and infiltration strategies burning their way into her brain. Meanwhile, the stacks of classified documents on Fields’ desk only grew. Fields could analyse documents and data like a machine, and the higher-ups were beginning to notice. Their movie nights became few and far between.

Then came the day when Moneypenny stopped by Fields’ desk only to find that it was completely bare. Fields came over that night with all of Moneypenny’s favorites from the Thai take-away place down the street and a message that she had been chosen to fill an opening in the Bolivian section.

“It’s a good sign,” Fields said. “They want me to gain some boots-on-the-ground experience to go with my theoretical knowledge.” Her glance warned Moneypenny away from a 'Fields work' pun.

Moneypenny let her smirk make the pun for her, even though her heart was tight in her chest. “Some work abroad will help you get promoted,” she said. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Fields said, frowning.

Moneypenny said, “Hang on a moment,” and took the time to put their plates of take-away onto the coffee table in front of the sofa. “There.” She gave Fields a sweet, slow smile.

Fields only had a second to squint suspiciously before Moneypenny flopped on top of her with all her weight, smooshing her into the sofa cushions with a growl, and spent a pleasant minute waiting for Fields to stop trying to escape.

Eventually, Fields stopped growling back at her, accepted her defeat, and lay still. “Mmmph,” she said into Moneypenny’s neck, not sounding displeased.

Moneypenny kissed her, and then she propped herself up on one hand, looked deep into Fields’ eyes, and said, “Have sex with some pretty Bolivians for me, all right? And don’t get killed.”

Fields cracked a smile. “You’re ridiculous,” she said. “And their ‘boots on the ground’ experience still involves me working in an office. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could get a papercut,” Moneypenny said, smiling back at her. “On this finger.” She scooted onto her knees, took Fields’ hand in hers, and sucked Fields’ index finger into her mouth, letting her teeth scrape teasingly before relinquishing it. “Or this one.” She dipped the next finger into her mouth, locking eyes with Fields. “Or this one…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll keep a weather eye out for rogue stationery,” Fields said, a little breathless.

Moneypenny pulled off to say, “See that you do,” mock-sternly.

Fields arched her eyebrows. “And you keep your eyes out for rogue everything else, Ms Top Field Recruit,” she said. A note of genuine worry leaked into her voice; she knew the field agent mortality statistics as well as Moneypenny did.  

“Cross my heart,” Moneypenny said, and kissed her. Fear of death made for awful goodbyes; luckily, orgasms made for good distractions.

Fields shipped out the next day, and Moneypenny and the other top-tier recruits shipped out a week later for what Shastri called their ‘final exam.’

When Moneypenny got back, she was so relieved at the familiarity of Nando’s and the Tube and Tetley tea and the rain that she forgot she should ask about Fields. And when she walked by Fields’ old office and remembered, well—what was there to ask about, really? Fields was undoubtedly still plowing away at stacks of paperwork in Bolivia. Moneypenny didn’t want it to get around that she was pining.

Instead of asking around, she mailed Fields a graduation card with a gold star scribbled on the inside instead of any incriminating words, to let Fields know she’d passed her field agent training with flying colors. She was dispatched on her first official mission before a reply could come.

Moneypenny returned whole and hale a few days later, having only done a couple of things that made her teammates mutter about her being a rookie, which was enough to make her order celebration Thai from the place down the street. (She refused to let it become her break-up restaurant. Those delicious summer rolls deserved to have happy people eating them.)   

When Moneypenny checked her mail slot, the card to Fields was slouching in amongst the bills and adverts, marked ‘Return to Sender’ on the front.

She made inquiries: asked discreet secretaries, viewed the mission reports she had the clearance to access. It was no secret what had happened to Fields; her death had been too dramatic, too unexpected, too entwined with a 00’s adventures to escape the gossip vine.

Fields had become involved with 007 and had gained some ‘boots on the ground’ experience in being murdered.

***

She’d been in the field. She shouldn’t have been in the field. Fields was—had been—a bloody paper-pusher, not someone trained to deal with the kind of people who thought drowning you in crude oil would be a laugh.

But Fields had gone in anyway. Of course she had. A 00 had needed her, and Fields had always wanted to help people.

Now she’d never help anyone again.

It was all Bond’s fault, really, Moneypenny mused in the dark of her flat, with a mostly-full bottle of Smirnoff to keep her company. He’d needed a tool, Fields had been willing and at hand, and he’d used her without hesitation.

It had worked. He’d finished his mission. Collateral damage was simply something that happened when you were a 00. When you worked in the field.

She could go to Bond, but what would she say? “Damn you for doing your job”? “Damn you for being a good field agent”? Maybe just “Damn you.” But it would be like damning a tiger for killing a deer: pointless. Especially when she was meant to be a tiger, too.   

Moneypenny woke up without a hangover, but with a nagging doubt that her best could ever be _the_ best. When a mission called for potential friendly fire, could she be the one to pull the trigger?

Still—she was Eve Moneypenny, not some trembling arsewipe who’d failed out of the field agent program in the first week. She’d set her course, and she was going to give it her best shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is welcome <3


End file.
